A Vintage Custom
by Elfwine
Summary: Legolas introduces a small wedding custom from the Elves of Mirkwood to Gimli, and in the process they obtain a sense of understanding. Writen in the Elf's POV with a little romance between Aragorn and Arwen.


A Vintage Custom

**Summary: Legolas introduces a small wedding custom from the Elves of Mirkwood to Gimli, and in the process they obtain a sense of understanding. Writen in the Elf's POV.**

"It is quite remarkable." Elrond was marveling over my father's latest blessing. An old and delicious gift left sitting to grow even more sweetened over the long years. I held a grass-colored vial, too small to be called a bottle in my hands. The glass was warm and made the leather of my skin prickle. "I have not seen a vintage as old as this in a long time." My father it seems has taken the lord of Rivendell unawares with such a touching and thoughtful gesture. I smile as he says, "It is strange that he should wish such a tradition to partake in the wedding but I think it is very hmm…generous." I feel the skin of my brow stretch in amusement.

"There is a full bucket of frost ready for this little friend and I think he has been warm for far too long." I turn to Gimli's rumbling and smile. The Dwarf looks curious, even Elrond still appears baffled by my father's proposal and all the more so by Gimli's sudden interference. He was hardly ever concerned himself in the doings of Elves. But the vial is a peculiar thing, the cork jagged and pressed into a slender neck, wrapped with in rawhide binding for security more than comfort.

"I wonder how he came by it." My own mouth tucks into a puzzled frown as Elrond squints at the bottom of the glass, and I doubt it is his sight but more his confusion that causes such an expression. "The words shaped into the molding are in Quenya. It reads; Silme Áre. Moonlight Sunlight. Ah!" He seems to have understood the meaning. "This wine represents two differences that become a part of each other, and no less important." The wine was merely a gift to the bride and groom but it had meaning, much as my father discussed with me before. I know better than to doubt its representation. Gimli looks uncertain but shrugs his big shoulders and remains taciturn.

Elrond smiles a little, "I deem you take it upstairs before Estel gets wind of this." I shake my head and turn to Gimli, silently inviting him to go along with me.

The Dwarf grunts and says, "Anyways, I wish to gaze upon this hall a while longer. And perhaps you will reveal more regarding this crude looking vial." We bid lord Elrond goodbye and leave him with his musings. The kings of old gaze down upon us as we pass their faces stern but still noble. Even in stone they possess a strange air about them; an old power.

"Who brought it?" I look at Gimli and smile thoughtfully, turning the glass in my hands as it captures the candlelight. The liquid inside is free and soft like the breeze filtering through the corridors of the white citadel, gleaming and shimmering. It breathes with life.

"An ambassador from home." I explain. Many have come to speak with Estel since his crowning. I was glad to see the banners of Mirkwood waving from a distance. The sun's fire brought the silver and white alive against the green. Pride and love were no strangers in my heart, but the sight of them rescued me from the loneliness inside this city of stone. My friends had marveled at the tolerance, calling it a drastic change and requiring after my health. Even Baran the Wanderer exclaimed sadly, "Our friend is no more, the sea claims yet another!" Besides Baran's dark words I have not felt such happiness since we set out. Gimli has given me many reasons to smile and laugh in his good company, but I have felt a hollowness in my soul until recently.

"Now all we have to do is slip passed the guards and go unnoticed." Gimli speaks rather loudly, but I bite my tongue and say nothing. I don't think I will ever adjust to his brashness. We walk a while long until he starts attacking me with questions again, his voice touching every empty place. "So have you seen this before?" His question is more difficult to answer than the first. I know he will understand everything I tell him, his too keen and quick not to. But I find this a strange offering; I have seen this vial afore.

"My father and mother drank some of this when they married." He looks at me with a strange bewilderedness, his eyes a little wider than at first. Does he also think ada incapable of kindness? I try and push old prejudices aside for the night, knowing full well that Gimli is a better person than that. He has not even spoken. That is why I'm glad to see his face soften and his gaze becomes thoughtful.

"Well tis' a strange custom." Gimli shakes his head as if riding himself of sleep. "But then you woodland folk have always been odd." I smile as he says this. "I confess, it must have been hard to part with this." Gimli waves a hand at the vial, all the while keeping his eyes ahead as the wide doors to the king's privet chambers loom higher with each step. I'm glad; he won't ever see my confusion. My gaze returns to the entrance that now reminds me of how tall the Men in Estel's line were, and still are. Even he would tower over the loftiness of my own kin, including ada who's stature tends to strike impressive intimidation upon the hearts of unfortunate others.

Gimli frowns through his beard and I come to realize he has just noticed an important detail that should not have been missed in advanced. "The guards are gone." His observation is quite a simple statement as it echoes throughout the area.

"Well my friend, shall we take this opportunity?" I turn to look at Gimli, his forehead beetled. After another moment of silence I ask patiently, "Is there something wrong?"

Gimli blinks up at me and scowls. "As you can see there are no guards to be found within the nearest wing!" Thankfully he is not shouting but grumbling heatedly. I would have emphasized with Gimli that he has no way of knowing if there are guards in the next corridor, however I'm already feeling worse as we go. "Gimli at the moment it is of no importance to me." I shrug one shoulder, noting it is not such an appropriate gesture but ignore the usual formalities anyhow. "Let us do this one thing and then be done with it!" Before he says anymore I flee hearing him scoff over the sound of his boot heels rolling across the floor. This has always been a sign that Gimli is finally giving in.

As we step into the wide room Gimli mutters under his breath and waddles after me, his eyes darting askance. The walls are sunk in shadow, with dips and curves of black shade adjusting in the swelling candlelight. A slender table is set in the center of the room, its dark wood gleaming in the moonlight that advances further over the carpets and wool rugs placed over the threshold as the clouds drift apart outdoors. Silver and glass are covered in black reflects. I feel the wind against my skin as it swarms throughout the place, chilly but still refreshing. The smell of nature is also present causing Gimli to screw his nose up at the smell of lilacs and great pine. But I breathe it in deeply like Estel when he smokes. Sadly the thought of burning fumes makes me extract a similar expression as the Dwarf.

"Well Elf put it in the frost and let us depart ere the guards find us out." Gimli says this impatiently as he pushes past to examine the delicate railing that circles the high terrace while I place the vial into the crushed ice, silently thankful for the chill that keeps it cold enough. I turn to look at Gimli as he stands against the night. He is silently in rapture, but there is something strange about his posture, I think. It is gently surprising and almost amusing as I realize that he is swaying, as if to some unheard composition.

"Gimli?" I'm beginning to feel concerned when he fails to answer. Suddenly he turns and smiles sadly, his eyes warm with thought.

"Nothing Elf, I was only listening." Gimli nods as he says this. Somehow I understand and I hope he knows. "The stone goes deep here." He walks back over to the open door and I follow after him, staring at his back the whole while. Sometimes it is enough to apprehend his reactions when Gimli is introduced to a new habit of my race. Even one concerning such a vintage custom as this.

As he stepped into the room Aragorn could smell the trees and garden flowers. His eyes adjusted to the blackening night and his gaze settled on the small table set in the heart of the room. There in the bucket of frost rested a small green bottle. But as he looked closer he could see that it was not a bottle but a vial. Arwen approached the table, smiling to herself as she lifted it in her soft hands. "I think." She said, "That we are meant to have this." Even without Aragorn felt quite content, his eyes only for his wife. Her skin held radiance against the night, and her dark eyes shining like points of sunlight on glass. He knew he was more blessed than any Man in Arad. Her returned love was proof enough. He stepped towards her taking the vial as she offered it to him. It was strange to be alone together, almost uncanny. But as Aragorn struggled with the cork he thought he detected the smell of smoke and evergreens. Maybe it was just his imagination, maybe not.

**Note; I don't own Legolas, Gimli or the happy couple. They belong to master Tolkien. I am well aware that wine does turn to vinegar after many years of sitting but I would like to believe that the Elves who made this particular vintage took many steps in preserving it. And I do not consider myself an expert in the tongue of Elves; I only relied on a long chart to help me. Glossary of Quenya; Silme (Moonlight), Áre (Sunlight). Glossary of Sindarin; Baran (Golden-brown). Ada (Father/Dad). Thanks for reading!**


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